In Life we believe,
We can choose who to love.
Convincing ourselves,
It’s a gift from above.
We know it takes work,
For a relationship to grow.
Yet, we’re missing an obvious
Piece of life’s flow.
The best relationships
Aren’t built on struggle and pain.
Compromising ourselves,
With nothing to gain.
The truth of the matter,
It’s easy to do.
When you don’t choose who you love,
You let love choose you.
by Erin Cooper Reed
I have posted some of the domestic violence poetry that I have written through the years. It is about not only what I have personally been through, but what I have endured and who I have become.
Let’s just get it all out there.
There really isn’t a market for domestic violence poetry…but there are people who connect to it and feel inspired.
If I never accomplish another thing in my life but to move and inspire just one person who is struggling, it will all be worth it.
So, there it is .
My past. My pain. My growth.
I have shared with you the depths of my soul.
Take with you what you will and what you need…
I am glad that we have gotten to know each other on such a personal level.
Thank you all.
Now, Let’s get back to the laughter.
Much love,
Erin Cooper Reed
I’ve worked in a restaurant most of my life. I enjoy people and serving the public. Doing so has helped me to develop amazing interpersonal skills and also an array of great stories. Through the years, Valentine’s Day has been a busy holiday and a standard couples night out.
Walking into any restaurant on Valentine’s Day, you’ll be sure to see tables filled with adorable couples, blissfully in love, sharing a bottle of wine. How romantic, right? Wait, maybe you’re not seeing the entire picture, like I am…your local waitress.
Allow me to give you the inside scoop…
Filet mignon, lobster tails, baked stuffed shrimp, rack of lamb, flowing drinks, roses and intimate conversation like this…
Table 2:
Me: “Here’s your appetizer,” as I set down the plate. “Jumbo shrimp cocktail.”
Wife to me: “Thank you.”
Wife to husband: “MY mother gave ME the money and if I want to buy a new ottoman, I’ll buy a new ottoman!”
Husband: Frowning, “Whatever you want dear.”
Oh boy, I think.
Table 3:
Me: “Hi. Excuse me.”
Couple: No response
Nevermind, these two need to go and get a room, I think.
Table 1:
Husband: “Excuse me. Can I get another drink?”
Me: “Yes.” I reply, thinking that’s his third one.
Table 4:
Me: “Hi! Can I get you something to drink?”
Female guest: “Yes, a…glass of pinot grigio.”
Oh God. She’s crying, I say to myself.
It’s peak dinner time and the house is packed. I bring table 2 their entrees and they’re arguing. I return to table 4 and realize that his date has left as he places an order for himself, while looking embarrassed.
This night is a mess, I think. Well, it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
As I’m at the computer entering an order, the wife at table 1 gets up to use the lady’s room. Moments later I feel someone pulling at my apron near the side of my waist.
Drunk guy from table 1: “Hey, beautiful! What are you doing later?”
This guy’s wife is in the lady’s room. You have got to be kidding me.
Valentine’s Day is full of hope and expectation of the perfect romantic evening, the perfect connection. In my perspective, you can’t conjure up that romance or that connection. Valentine’s Day isn’t about doing what’s expected or trying to show your love one night out of the year, it’s about celebrating your love every day of the year.
Whether you spend Valentine’s Day out at a fancy restaurant, or home in your pj’s eating chinese food and watching Netflix, give the one you love the best you have to offer…every single day.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Love,
Your local waitress
What is your favorite Valentine’s Day story? Share it here.
Rise to Criticize
Never in my life did I fathom that the three adorable little babies that I brought into this world would grow into three handsome teenagers that now, apparently, know more than I do.
Okay, so I was a teenager once too and I do remember snickering when my dad imparted his unwarranted, fatherly advice which usually started with sentences like…”You know, life isn’t a bowl of cherries…” and “This isn’t a place just to hang your hat…” Each sentence was followed by what I took as criticism.
Fast forward to 2017 and from the moment my sons rise in the morning it’s an ongoing life lesson orchestrated by the sound of my own voice. I stare at their blank faces while I try to explain the reason they should see, or act on situations in life a certain way. (Cue deep sighs and eyerolls)
My points, no matter how eloquently expressed, are met with statements like, “Maybe that worked back in the olden days.”(Note: Which was the 80’s, by the way) or “Mom, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” (Note: Of course I do.)
Yet we all know that the age-old struggle between parents and teenagers will never cease to exist.
I was well into my adulthood the day that I called my dad and said, “Hi dad. I get it now… Life isn’t easy and when I think about all the advice you gave me growing up, I wish I had listened. You were right about everything.”
I could hear the smile in my dad’s voice as he replied.
“That’s nice to hear! I love you honey.”
I replied, ” I Love you too dad.”
I’m not fortunate enough to have my dad anymore…but I hope one day my sons will each wake up to the same realization that I came to and that I will receive the same beautiful phone call, three times over.
The other thing that will never cease to exist is the realization that what teenagers see as constant harping and criticism, is actually the deepest form of love.
Sometimes life is about the moment… the moments that you remember because they shape who you are. The moments that are brought on by a feeling, a song or a memory…the moments, good or bad, that you never forget because they stay with you forever.
I had one of those moments tonight. My eldest son, Kevin moved to Long Island. I am so proud of him. It was his decision to go and he even said, “Mom, I know that you’re upset with me for moving, but I have to go follow my dream.” You see, Kevin is a bright star, a writer, a deep thinker, a performer, an editor and a film maker. A spirit that hones his craft in the wee hour of the morning, not unlike me. I love this kid and he never ceases to amaze me with his wit and his drive. “Kevin,” I said, “The majority of your generation lives at home until they are almost thirty. I never pushed you to leave, but I believe in you and I support your decision.”
Kevin is a graduate of the Connecticut School of Broadcasting. He has an amazing ability to express himself and to connect with people. His expression is honest and real and he definitely has a gift that has been under construction since he picked up his first camera at the age of three. I love to see what Kevin is going to do or say next. He hasn’t had an easy path and he definitely wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but that is what makes his perspective on life so raw and so real. I have always told my kids that it’s not what has happened to you but what you do with it and that all great art comes through struggle and pain, whether it be painting, writing, singing or film.
After arriving in New York, Kevin called. “Mom, did you happen to put that cough medicine in my suitcase? I don’t feel well…I think I’m getting sick.”
I replied, “Yes Kevin, I did. Look in your suitcase and call me back.”
I had packed Kevin’s suitcase with brand new cologne, a hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, bar soap, razors, shaving cream, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, a toothbrush, nail cutters, wash cloths, Advil, Tylenol Cold, cough drops, a digital thermometer, face pads, Q-tips, socks, underwear, gloves, a hat, a flash light, batteries, stamps, envelopes, scissors, tape and clothes. I can’t even remember everything that I bought. I just wanted Kevin to have everything that he needed and all the comforts of home. I struggled to make it all fit in the overstuffed suitcase while John said, “You are such a good mother and I hope that Kevin realizes all of the love that went into all that you have done.”
At the last-minute, I took a small envelope, slid a one hundred-dollar bill in it, licked and sealed it…then wrote on the outside, “In case of emergency. Love, Mom.”
The phone rang. It was Kevin calling back. “Hi, Kev.” I said “Did you find the cough medicine?”
“Yes. Yo, that was the most motherly shit ever! Thank you.” Kevin replied
“You’re welcome. I love You, Kevin.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
Sometimes life is about the moment. This very moment.
mylifeiswear.com 